


The Morning Commute

by Birdish



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Briefly Mentioned Ventus/Vanitas, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Slow Burn, Unrequited Crush, Workplace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22502362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdish/pseuds/Birdish
Summary: Sora’s always meant to talk to the man who saves him a spot on the morning train.... but he’s never gotten past the expected pleasantries. That is until, one day, they get off at the same stop.
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 171





	1. Prologue: Familiar Stranger on the Train

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on my phone, please forgive any typos, they will be fixed! 
> 
> The idea came to me and I knew if I didn’t type it, it would disappear into the ether.
> 
> Dunno how far I want to go with this, let’s see what happens. Will probably (definitely, expect it!) add more chapters!

He was late, constantly late, so much so that the sound of his hurried footsteps against the pavement had become an expected sound of the morning commute for the other passengers on the Twilight Town train.

Each morning, as he dashed into the tram, breaths coming in pants, he always settled, as though instinctively, into the spot cleared just for him. This spot, besides the silver-haired man who rode with both hands clutching the upwards handles, was always open, always welcoming, to Sora. It was kept open, saved by the man, and each day, his eyes still droopy with sleep, Sora knew he wouldn’t have to journey far for a seat or a place to stand. He even liked to think, during his commuter’s daydreams, that the man, _Riku_ , did it because he thought it ideal if Sora was close, even better if he was next to him, leaning into his side softly with each bump of the train, the warmth of his body appreciated in the cool morning air...

It was just a daydream of course. 

They never really spoke, except for a “thank you” or a “wow, the weather out there, huh?” They never asked much about their lives or who they were outside of the train, they were strictly on a first-name basis, an "I see you every Monday-Friday for thirty minutes" mode of being...  
  
Still, there was no “why are you always late?” or “how are you always so put together?” No accusations or resentful glares. There was only a shared smile, a bashful downcasting of the eyes, a sighed “oh good, he’s here” as the train bumbled on, and that was good enough.

When Riku got off at his stop, would leave the side of the person he’d come to expect, come to anticipate, they’d share a “goodbye,” and when he felt up to it, Sora would smile and add a cheerful: “have a good day Riku!”

He’d watch him go, that silver-haired angel of a man, and would promise himself: “tomorrow, _tomorrow_ I’ll get up early, I’ll surprise him!”

But unlike most days, where the promise would be made again, and the shared commute was pleasant and shy, on that day, this morning, Sora followed Riku off the train, was ready, with a prepared smile, when the man turned with a slow, confused glance, looked down to him with curiosity.

“New stop.” Sora clutched his lunch bag and smiled even wider. 

Riku only nodded before advancing through the busy platform, the "goodbye" seeming quieter than usual. Sora watched him go, deflating little by little as the space between them grew.

  
He let him go into the crowd, didn't move until the silver patches of hair disappeared into the masses. Only when the man was fully out of sight did Sora set off, the location of his new job punched into the Gummiphone’s navigation. He pressed through the busy platform, pushed passed bodies on the loud streets, eyes never leaving his phone.

_You have arrived._

  
Arrived he had. The light of the morning shined off of the plate glass of the skyscraper, the windows seeming as though mirrors against the sky.

_His first day at a new job._  
_His first day at such a large company._  
_His first day at saying something different to Riku._

A fire of triumph rose within Sora, and his smile grew as the concierge asked to see his work ID. He walked through the lobby as though in a dream, footsteps light and smile even lighter, excitement coursing through him with each step. _He’d done it, he’d done it all..._

And with only five minutes to spare. He couldn’t be late on his first day!

He looked to the elevator just as the doors began to close. Eyes widening, the first inclinings of panic setting in. With arm outstretched, movements willing the door to slow, he began to run.

_Stopstopstop!_

It seemed another heard his silent plea, and a familiar, muscled-arm came forward, held the advancing doors at bay. Sora rushed into the elevator, a sheepish "thank you" on his lips as he looked to the other passenger.

“Your new stop?”  
“Yup.”  
“Wise Corp?”  
“Yup.”

They looked to one another, the familiar bashfulness setting in as the humming of the elevator filled the silence.

“So we’ll be working together.”

  
Another yup, another small smile.

They were coworkers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God they were roommates.  
> I mean coworkers.


	2. After Work Celebrations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see if I can keep this under 10k words.

The euphoria of walking into Wise Corporations, a company Sora had dreamed of working for, alongside a man he’d also, maybe every once and a while, dreamed of, was enough to have the young man smiling throughout the workday.

Sure, it would have been nice if Riku hadn’t just passed him off to the receptionist, and it would have been ideal if they worked on the same floor…but Sora knew reality had to differ from dreams at some point. He was grateful all the same, and the ideas that maybe he’d see Riku in the lunchroom over a bag of chips, or that, now that they worked together, they might even take the same train home, were realistic enough, enticing enough, to keep the new employee upbeat.

Maybe he could even save Riku a spot on the train….

“And this is your desk,” Demyx was saying, his voice rising through the office. “See how we arranged the desks in a circle? It was Ven’s idea, I think it looks nice, much better than the cubicles in Accounting.”

_Accounting._

That’s where Riku was, just a floor below Sora, _a-counting_ the passing hours until the end of the day.

“You’ll shadow me since Ven is out, but when he comes back he’ll act as your mentor. He’s really great, very attentive, nice guy.”

Sora looked to the desks, looked to the knick-knacks and little potted plants that ordained them, and nodded. His desk was barren save for the computer, but not for long. He still had his box from the old company, the contents longing to be redisplayed.

“I like to sleep over there sometimes,” Demyx pointed to a sunny spot on the carpet by one of the long, paneled windows. “Lounging like a cat.”

He shot Sora a wide grin, winked playfully with a chuckle. “Everybody here knows how to behave, it’s not too busy. Just the way I like it.”

The ensuing laughter came naturally, and as they went to sit at their desks, looking to one another with coy smiles, they couldn't help but laugh again. The Human Resources Department was already ten times better than Sora had assumed it could be. The wheels of his chair squeaked as he leaned back, looking to the view of the city, and he wondered if Riku, just maybe, could hear him.

* * *

“Cheers!”

The Paopu Coladas were downed, and the chocobo-orientated conversation resumed as the duo from the Human Resources department enjoyed Demyx’s favorite after-work destination. It was only a block away from their office, and Cid’s Bar was always a fun place to be.

“Thank you for the great first day Demyx,” Sora already felt warmth, pooling from his stomach, make its way through his body, and Demyx wasn’t seeming to fare any better. “It was the best first day of my life.” Demyx, earnestly, placed his hand on Sora’s shoulder.

“You’re welcome, you’re welcome. Your second day will be even better.”

“And my third day greater?”

“And your fourth day the best of them!”

Cid, as though on cue, brought another round of the chilled beverage, and just as before, Sora and Demyx drank them as though racing. A man pushed through the crowd, the atmosphere around him seeming somber and grey, and Demyx perked up, his head rising as though compelled.

“Leon!” the man paused. “Leon, come here!”

The man returned, his gaze serious, but forgiving, as he looked to Demyx. Demyx motioned to the man, presenting him to Sora as though a trophy. “This is Squall Leonhart, he works in the Research and Development department." Then, leaning forward as though Leon couldn't hear or see, he whispered: "Just call him Leon, never Squall, or I’ll have to write an HR report.”

Leon rolled his eyes but didn't speak, didn't leave, seemingly familiar, and accepting, of Demyx's antics.

Sora nodded, sticking his hand out politely. “Hi, I’m—”

“The keyblade….”

“Huh?”

Leon motioned to Sora’s keys. They hung helplessly from his belt, and Sora looked to the long, keyshaped charm he’d won at the arcade so many years ago. The amount of munni he’d spent…. the number of hours earning tickets just to get the sterling silver pendant…

“You’re its chosen one.” The man smirked, raised his steely gaze from the charm, and for a moment, all was still. The glance hit like lightning, piercing through Sora almost as quickly as the heat rolled over him. He smiled, gave a half-enthused: “Haha, yea…” and took a tentative sip from his Paopu Colada as his cheeks continued to burn.

“I remember saving up for it. When I finally had enough tickets I went to the counter and low-and-behold someone had already beaten me to the punch,” Leon’s eyes never left Sora’s, and Sora held the gaze as he sipped at his drink, a part of him not wanting to back down and another, transfixed, whether by competitiveness or something else, he didn’t know.

“And now we work at the same company, must be fate.”

“Mm,” Leon considered it, a small smile beginning to form, and Sora, finally, turned away. “Why don’t you guys come sit with us?” Leon was talking to Demyx now, and he motioned to a table tucked in the corner. Sora looked to the pointed direction, could barely make out a shock of fire-like hair amidst a discourse of untucked work shirts and unraveled ties.

“Let’s introduce….,” Leon looked to him expectantly, and Sora gave a small, curt nod.

“Sora.”

“Let’s introduce Sora to everyone.”

Demyx was already rising, nodding enthusiastically, and at the cue, Sora moved too, one hand grabbing at his drink while the other pushed off from the bar. He followed Demyx, shot one last look to Leon, and felt a small bead of surprise. The man held him in his gaze, something gentle, calculating in the steel eyes. There was a question there, something unspoken, and Sora turned away, following Demyx, afraid to engage for fear of what it could bring.

* * *

“Aren’t you in HR? Shouldn’t you know better than to pursue an office romance?”

The shot burned Sora’s throat, a pillar of flame through his nostrils. Twenty Questions Drinking Edition was going smoothly

“A crush is _not_ an office romance,” When had Leon’s arm, ever so gracefully, found its way to rest behind Sora’s head? What kind of alcohol had Sora just drunken anyway? He could already feel it working its way around the crevices of his mind: woozy, vision-blurring tendrils. “Unrequited love isn’t a romance anyway.”

Lea snorted and said something, the words pitched with laughter, but Sora could barely hear it over what Leon had whispered under his breath. The words hadn’t been meant for Sora, probably hadn’t even been meant for anybody, even Leon himself, but still, he’d said them, softly, for only ghosts to hear.

They made Sora’s heart leap, made his cheeks flush pink.

He could blame it on the alcohol, but _he_ knew what it really was.

* * *

The sight of the train was celebration-worthy, the screeching as it slowed almost dull and dreamlike in Sora’s ears.

They left the bar and Sora, teetering to the left and tottering to the right, slurred out against the calls of concern: “I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine! Go home, go home!”

Demyx, the ever-reliable lightweight, was passed out in the back of Lea’s ordered taxi, and Leon had guided Sora, his arm wrapped comfortably around the man’s shoulders, to the train station. He’d left as per Sora’s insistence, left the drunken brunette to lean against a pole as he waited for his train.

When it arrived, he lumbered his way in, thanking the stars that the car was empty. He gave a loud groan, _there was no Riku to save him a spot_ , and even if there was no reason to save a spot, there was a feeling of…emptiness he wasn’t used to experiencing.

With one hand holding the railing, Sora’s eyes drooped closed.

_What if Riku had waited for him after work? Was he sad, just as Sora was, to not be able to ride together?_

Sora wasn’t prepared for the train to lurch forward, his thoughts too preoccupied to hear the robotic warning. He rocked with the movement of the train, his feet unsteady, balance unsure, and through the drunken haze, he was barely able to comprehend that the floor was coming at him faster than it should have.

But then time stopped, and Sora was safe and suspended mid-fall. The ground didn't draw near, the gum that would have stuck to his cheek still pressed, pink and dirty, to the metal floor.

Sora’s eyelids fluttered, feeling heavier with each blink, as he was pulled backward. A steady arm, strong and sure, had stopped time, and a concerned set of sea-foam green eyes and familiar draping of silver hair, set time back on its rightful course.

“Riku," the name came as a sigh. "How was accounting?”

The man helped steady him, and Sora, too woozy to feel mortified, smiled all the same. _Riku was here._

“Good,” the man paused, and as he averted Sora's gaze he quietly asked. “How was Demyx?”

 _They were talking, an actual conversation_.

“Great! Demyx was great!”

_The best first day._

Sora rocked again, falling slightly into Riku, and though the man sighed, he didn’t pull away, didn’t move. Instead, as they journeyed home, he kept on hand on Sora’s shoulder, a steadying, dependable presence.

* * *

“Can you,” Riku's voice was reluctant as they exited the train. “Get home alright?”

As the train pulled away, Sora watched it go, his eyes narrowing. _This couldn’t be Riku’s stop_. Drowsily he looked to the silver-haired man, nodded...and instantly regretted it as the world swirled. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, allowing everything to return to its proper place, and when he spoke, he tried his best to imitate his sober-self's cadence.

“Mmhmm, see,” one hand gripped Riku’s, _when had he grabbed it_ , as Sora pointed to his apartment, the third set of windows from the ground, the one with the blue curtains. “That’s me, right there. Super close.”

“And yet you always almost miss the train?” there wasn’t malice in the way Riku spoke, and when Sora looked to him, he saw a small, barely-there smile.

Still, it was _there_ , and Sora felt the flames of triumph begin to grow.

“It's really not my fault, I always sleep through my alarm," Sora leaned a bit, smiled as Riku steadied him again. "The sunlight coming in through the curtains wakes me up.”

Riku ushered the inebriated young man towards the building, his palm sure and warm in Sora’s hand. 

“I can get home alright, don’t worry, it’s _right_ there. What about you? Can you get home ok? Do you want me to walk you home? This isn’t your stop Riku.”

“I can walk home.”

“Alone? No Riku, don’t do that, let’s walk, safety first, how far is it?”

“Close,” the man continued to pull Sora to the building, coaxing him forward like a patient, mother hen, laughter in his voice. “I can get there fine Sora. You should be focusing on walking straight.”

“I’m barely drunk, I’ll be fine,” He stumbled over his shoe.

Riku looked on, looked to the empty streets around them, to the dark and closed windows, and when he spoke again, his voice came soft and kind. “Promise you’ll get inside safe?”

The words sparked a mischievous smile. Sora raised their joined hands, raised the balled fists so they were eye level as he gave his companion a determined nod.

It was a gentle kiss, a small peck onto the back of Riku’s hand, but the butterflies in Sora’s stomach still fluttered to life, still lazily pranced about.

“I'll give you a two-for-two. I promise I’ll get home safe and I promise tomorrow I won’t be late. I won’t!” And finally, he allowed Riku to detangle their hands, allowed for the now-familiar warmth to fall flat between them.

“Alright,” they still stood, looking to one another, Sora’s goofy smile plastered on his face. “Go home now Sora.”

Sora walked a bit, movements slackening as he stood in the opening to his building. He turned, looked back over his shoulder, and Riku nodded, waving for the drunken man to go on.

“Tomorrow morning, I won’t be late.”

“Right.”

“Bye Riku.”

A chuckle, the warmest and most sincere chuckle Sora had ever heard.

“Bye Sora.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ther was this fic I adored in like, 2011-2012, The Devil You Know by keysandhearts on Fanfiction.net, and it inspired Leon even being in this fic. It was one of the first Kingdom Hearts fics I ever read back when Fanfic.net and Youtube were my main source of KH fandom. If you wanted to give it a read: [The Devil You Know](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5246532/1/The-Devil-You-Know/)  
> Will they be a ship in this fic, who knows, I for sure don't. Like Nomura, I am making the plot up as I go along (I’m kidding)  
> 


	3. Lunch Break

**Sora**

Drunken ideas are, for the most part, regretted or turned to laughable legend by morning.

The blaring of the alarm, amplified by headphones and radiating in head, sent Sora toppling from bed, eyes wide and hands groping at his ears. _Simple and Clean_ screamed through every crevice of his skull, the chorus wailing _plllllleeeeeaaassee OH BABY_ _DON’T_ as he launched his Gummiphone across the room.

The blue light of morning, the sun not yet bright against the curtains, was a sight he hadn’t seen in years. He might have even appreciated it, stared as he began to calm...but the throbbing in his head failed to cease, his stomach kept contracting, and his heart, only mere seconds away from giving up the ghost.

The blue light of morning might as well have been the flames of Hell.

But still, he was up. Startled, panting, cursing Utada Hikaru, but _up._

 _For Riku_.

And Sora’s heart, stuttering from the panic of awakening, skipped a beat.

 _For Riku_.

* * *

He wasn’t early, but he was far from late.

The train wasn’t yet there, but a crowd had already formed on the platform. Drowsy eyes and mumbled voices as they waited, impatiently teetering from foot to foot.

The small breakfast Sora’d prepared for himself, instant oatmeal and a cup of hot chocolate, was coaxing him into a sleepy stupor, the residual warmth beckoning his eyes closed. He wasn't prepared when the train finally arrived. He'd never had to experience the jostling, the struggle. Had never been witness to the almost frantic way people piled in, shoving each other forward.

Usually by the time he was barreling through the platform, everyone had settled, adjusting themselves into their claimed space. Sora had never dealt with the aggression of trying to get onto the train, didn’t have to deal with bumping into people, falling into others, not knowing where to grab, where to stand. Maybe if he stood in one spot, allowed everyone to just MOVE, he'd eventually find somewhere to be, somewhere to habituate. But then Riku wouldn't know that he was early, wouldn’t even know he was on the train….

A hand found him in the crowd, pulled him through the sea of commuters. The grasp on his wrist felt familiar, like a sensation from a fogged memory, and when peace came in the form of silver hair and teal eyes, the all-too-familiar warmth blossomed. There was a murmured, almost tentatively said: “Giving up already?” and though the world seemed to be pulsating and his nerves were as frazzled as his hair, Sora couldn’t help but smile.

 _They were on a teasing level!_ The thought sent a thrill through his spine.

“I wasn’t late!”

“Good job.”

The train jolted back to life and Sora, looking to the vibrating floor, felt another flash of warmth. Riku made room for him to take his rightful place, and Sora looked to the jade gaze and thought to the night before. It was hazy...but the promise rang clear, a reverberating gong in the fog of inebriation. He didn't remember the ride home...didn't remember the walk...but there'd been words, warm hands...

“Did I do…anything weird last night?”

Riku looked to him, a piercing, cool glance, and deja vu tinged butterflies began to flutter.

“No.”

Sora sighed in relief, the holes in his memory apparently devoid of anything embarrassing. “Good, I’ve done some questionable things when I drink and…never mind. It wouldn’t be work appropriate.”

Riku nodded slowly, his gaze leaving Sora, freeing the man from the butterfly inducing stare. They relaxed into a comfortable silence, both easing into the feeling of the commute, the whirring of the train and the gentle heat of the morning sun beading through the windows. Sora smiled, relishing in the feeling of accomplishment, of happiness, of _still being a little drunk_.

Out of the corner of his eye there came a flash of silver, and he watched, with stilled breath, as Riku looked at him. The turquoise gaze took in the length of his body, up and down, and Sora stiffened. 

_Was his shirt not ironed? His slacks not pressed? Had he forgotten to wear a belt?_

_Or was Riku just checking him out?_

It was a lot to process.

“No lunch?”

Realization. Sora's hands felt, suddenly, nude, exposed. What usually clutched a bag now only groped air.

_He’d forgotten lunch._

There came a chuckle.

“They have food in the break room,” And again, there was the feeling deja vu. Sora nodded, words stolen away as he looked to his hand.

He'd really forgotten his lunch.

"Serves me right for getting drunk on a weekday huh?" He smiled at Riku, and there came a smile, warm and patient, in response.

He had to keep Riku talking, had to keep the flow of conversation going. Maybe even coax another smile from the man...

“What kind of food?”

“I never took you for the picky type.”

“I’m not, I can eat anything, just trying to see what I’ve got to be excited about.”

And though it was mundane, a conversation about punctuality and lunch, the ride easily became one of Sora’s favorites.

* * *

By lunch, Sora was as good as gone. Idly he finished a report, the words blurring as he proofread. If Demyx had been talking to him, he didn’t hear any of it, his mind was only preoccupied with one thing. The minute the clock turned to 12:45 he rose, and weakly, he teetered his way to the break room.

_Cup Noodles, Cup Noodles, Cup Noodles._

The hallway was a blur and the break room an oasis, the hum of the vending machine a siren’s call. Sora wandered, glassy-eyed, into the room, and was revived not only by the sight of packaged noodles, but by the form of his commuting partner. Just as the daydream’s prophesized, at the break room table, Riku sat, eating a sandwich, and strength returned to Sora. Riku nodded, curtly, politely, before his gaze returned to his book.

_Riku, Riku, Riku._

Sora went to the vending machine and assessed the array of bars and chips. His gaze pulled away from the chocolate bars and chips ever so often, always returning to Riku’s reflection, watching, just to see, if the man would look back his way. Sora stood, frozen in front of the machine, waiting for the moment when Riku would chance a glance, go to speak...

But he didn’t. His gaze never left the book he was reading, his eyes, only ever so often, going to his lunch.

_Had it been too much of an expectation to think that conversation would flow as easily as it had that morning?_

_He’d expected a “hello” at least._

“Don’t tell me you’re getting a snack so close to lunch,” a teasing tone, a familiar voice.

Sora looked from the reflection, saw someone that belonged in the drunk haze of the night prior.

“Hey Leon,” Sora's thoughts whispered about food, _Cup Noodles, a bag of Chocochips, soda to tide him over_. “This "snack" is actually going to be my lunch. I usually make it before I go to bed but…you know.”

“You were ten sheets to the wind last night, you probably couldn't have even opened up a package of bread.”

Sora laughed, and the sound of a page-turning, of _Riku_ , was almost drowned by it. “I barely remember getting home last night, if it wasn't for Riku I probably would have just slept on the train."

There was an affirming “hmph” from Leon, and Sora’s gaze flashed back to Riku’s reflection. He watched, with narrowing eyes, as the man didn’t seem to budge, didn’t seem to acknowledge any of the conversation.

_Would it kill the guy to eavesdrop?_

“We take the same train,” Sora clarified, voice lower as he turned back to the vending machine. He could still feel Leon’s eyes boring into him, couldn’t help the rush of embarrassment that waved through him. _Was it obvious that he was pouting_? He straightened up and checked the numbers on the snacks.

“We’re all getting lunch now, if you want to come.”

Sora shook his head as he pulled munny from his pocket, counting the coins and checking the prices. “Thanks, but I’m just going to get something here.” 

And a hand, gently, placed itself onto his shoulder, and warmth seemed to transfer throughout Sora's body, painting his cheeks a faint pink. That gaze, once again, caught him, a calm grey cloud on a cool day. “No you’re not, I’ll treat you.”

There was security, wisdom, in Leon’s movements. Just as it’d felt the night before when his arm, lazily, had been draped behind Sora, the feeling of dependability returned, warm, secure, and radiating through Sora’s skin.

Leon was trying to be nice, and it wasn’t as though Sora was obligated to come along. He could always _refuse_ the invitation, could sit by Riku in silence and try to attempt… _to force?_...conversation.

It’d been like that yesterday too, any pleasantry ending the minute they stepped from the train.

Maybe the morning commute would be the only time Riku would be willing to be anything more than a coworker.

There came a low clatter from the table, and Sora cleared his throat.

“Riku,” The man looked up from his book, chewing slowly. “W-want to come along, we’re going for…”

“Burritos.”

“Burritos, we’re going for burritos.”

“I’m fine.” He motioned the sandwich as though a shiel and steadied his book.

“Alright,” Leon had already started away and Sora, with a last, unwilling glance, spoke. “Bon Appetit Riku.”

“You too Sora.”

And though he knew he was being dramatic, knew that all he had to say was: “on second thought, I’ll have lunch with Riku,” Sora continued down the hall.

Had he let his daydreams get the better of him? Allowed a crush to paint a normal, polite interaction into something else?

_You too Sora._

He winced.

* * *

Sora had assumed his first week working alongside Riku would amplify their commuting conversations, thought they’d find themselves excitedly talking about coworkers and workplace gossip, especially after their great Tuesday interaction.

Yet, just as before, a general shyness befell their morning conversations, gentle “hello”s and “good morning”s all that was said over the whine of the train.

And somehow, those same conversations about workplace gossip and politics, the ones Sora had meant to reserve for Riku, blossomed between him and Leon. He’d always made friends fast, hours feeling like lifetime connections when he spoke to people, and Leon was, surprisingly, a good listener.

So why was it that Sora could hardly get a word out of Riku?

Each night Sora found himself, after Leon drove him home from the bar, worrying about the same mornings he’d once run to. The days stretched on, work needing to be done, and yet no progress with Riku. As he sat at his desk, Sora sighed, typing on the computer with one hand, his other occupied with the phone.

“How long until Ventus gets back from his conference?”

“Tuesday next week.”

“And how long are you going to be sick?”

He could almost hear Demyx shrug.

“Why did everyone decide to go crazy when I’m the only one here? And on a Friday? This is still my first week you know, I’m technically on probation, I shouldn’t be handling complaints.”

“Welcome to Wise Corp….”

Leon, reliable, kind Leon, lounged in Demyx’s chair, tossing a paper ball as he watched the rain patter against the windows. The city was dark, a large black mass with incremental beads of light, lights of others who were staying late at work hauling loads of tasks undone. Sora hung the phone up, gave another groan, and squinted at the computer screen. Leon continued to throw the ball, the movement drawing Sora's eyes away from the straining blue light of the monitor, and he sighed.

“Thanks for staying with me Leon.”

“It’s only because you don’t know the security code.”

“This is my first week _here_.”

“It is, isn’t it...”

The night drew on, forms filled, paper balls thrown, screens stared at. Sora yawned, Leon yawned, but they stayed put.

After his tenth yawn, Sora’s stomach growled. It was loud in the silence, and with a sigh, he pushed away from his desk.

“I’m going to make something to eat in the break room, did you want anything? Instant ramen?”

“No,” the ball hit the ceiling with a dull thump, and Leon gave another low yawn as Sora departed.

The hallway was dark and Sora’s eyes drooped as he walked. Thank goodness it was Friday. He was going to spend the weekend sleeping in and lounging around. Maybe he wouldn’t even leave his apartment, would just invite some friends over for a weekend-long lazy…

_Riku._

Sora paused in the doorway of the breakroom. The silver-haired man looked back at him, familiar tiredness reflected in the depths of his gaze as he grasped at a cup of tea. Awkwardly, they nodded to one another, gazes falling just as quickly as they’d met.

Sora went to the counter, trying to think of what to say as he set the water to boil.

_At least we get paid overtime, right?_

_Can you believe our teams left us with all this work?_

_The last train already left, how are you getting home?_

“Leon drives you home every night,” Riku’s voice was just as tired as Sora felt. “Doesn’t he?”

“Yea, he does,” Sora wasn’t used to having to force himself to sound cheerful, wasn't used to combating tension. “Are you worried I don’t know about missing the last train? It’s ok, Leon actually stayed to give me a rid —”

“You took the train home once, your first day working here, Leon didn't drive you then.”

“Yea, I was lucky to catch it, I probably should have just asked Leon to drive me home that night,” He wasn’t used to this feeling of apprehension. “I’m sorry for making you take care of me that night.”

Riku stiffened, and Sora watched as his hands gripped around the mug. His next words were a whisper.

“Be careful when you go out with Demyx and Leon.”

“Hm?”

“That’s where they meet people,” And when Riku, finally, looked back at Sora, it wasn’t his customary neutral expression. It wasn’t the softer, friendly expression from the morning train.

It was something knowing, irritating. _Prickly_.

He was....angry?

“What do you mean by that?” But Sora knew. It had to do with what Leon had muttered, ever so quietly, at the beginning of the week, words that’d felt like a confession.

_The best romances start at the bar anyway…._

“Leon’s married you know,” Sora’s heart stilled.

He hadn’t known, hadn’t even thought to ask, to check Leon’s finger for a ring. But it wasn’t like….he had a reason to check. Attraction wasn’t the same as pursuing someone.

It hurt to hear Riku say it though, hurt because it confirmed what Sora hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.

Riku had grown tired of him.

“I don’t think Leon, Demyx, or Lea would be interested in me Riku,” It was the only retort he could think of. “Leon is…married, like you said. Demyx is Demyx, and Lea has some Isa guy,” thank goodness for Twenty Questions and drunken confessions.

Riku shook his head, his knuckles white as he gripped the cup harder. "You don't think, you're right about that," the words came as a growl. "Who wanders the streets drunk like that?"

Silence followed, and the feeling that’d been growing, the pain from the mornings, finally rushed out in the form of an unwavering accusation.

“I would have been fine, I'm not defenseless," but his words, instead, came as a plea, and what he wanted to know, needed to know, whispered through. "Why do you keep saving me a spot on the train?” 

The water began to boil, and Riku’s response, tired and low, was barely louder than the shrill whistle.

“I’ll stop.”

It was the wrong answer to the wrong question.

* * *

**Riku**

Jealousy never looked good on Riku.

A hand on a shoulder, the flush of skin, the almost instinctual blushing and the kind of laughter Riku had always liked to coax out….

It wasn’t fair.

On the computer screen, the numbers began to bleed together, and Riku closed his eyes with a sigh, knowing he wouldn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop.

His head was throbbing, but he _had_ to finish this spreadsheet, _had_ to get the budget in.

Overhead, there came the all-too-familiar sound of a chair rolling across carpet. The almost grating sound of joy.

Leon already knew so much about Sora’s life, knew what Riku craved to discuss, yearned to ask.

In a week. _A week_.

Riku’d seen Sora daily for months, had known about him…thought about him…ever since the day…

But the words in his head never sounded right, never seemed ready to form into something spoken.

How did Leon do it so easily? How did he talk to someone like Sora, someone who seemed to always know the right words to say, so easily, despite being just a reserved, just as off-handed, as Riku? Why was he so...bad at....

It wasn’t fair.

* * *

**Sora**

“It’s really coming down….”

With the office closed and the work completed, the last workers of the night stood under the awning.

Sora hadn’t expected to be standing beside Riku so soon after their…argument…, but there they were, a trio against a dark building, their eyes looking to the crying heavens.

Riku was the first to move forward, to trudge into the rain, arms crossed, hair beginning to dampen and grey.

“The last train already left; you’ll be soaked by the time you get home.”

Leon’s words didn’t seem to reach him, didn’t slacken his footsteps.

“Riku….” but Sora's voice, quiet, and cautious, didn’t reach him, and the distance between them grew. With each step something seemed to change between them, each inch solidifying a new reality.

_Quiet mornings on the train, now spent separated from one another._

_No eye contact at work, no "good mornings"_

_No small triumphs at getting Riku to smile..._

Sora didn’t feel the rain, cool and wet, against his skin. He didn’t hear Leon’s interjection. Sora, as he ran after Riku, only felt the warmth of Riku’s arm as he grabbed him, only felt the throbbing of his heart as he spoke.

“Just ride with us, you’ll get sick.”

They shared a glance, words unspoken in their eyes, Riku’s pulse strong and hard against Sora’s hand. 

The anger, the hurt from before, had long cooled in both their eyes. As they looked to one another, questions held back only by the presence of another who stood, confused and dry, under the awning, Riku sighed.

“…fine.”

They returned to the awning, waited together in silence as Leon jogged to his car. As they climbed in, Riku, curtly, told Leon his address.

Sora paused.

_Wait._

_That didn't make sense._

Looking to the rain against the window, Sora closed his eyes.

_What was Riku doing?_

* * *

“Thank you for the ride, Leon.”

Leon nodded as Riku rose from the car and headed towards a townhouse. The lights were on inside, _does Riku have roommates_ , and Sora watched as he jogged towards the front door, keys prepared.

They were two blocks from Sora’s building, and now Sora knew that Riku lived closer to work than he did.

So why did Riku take an earlier train? He’d have to wake up early, go to the stop before Sora’s. It seemed like a waste of time, but maybe he liked to walk in the mornings to wake up?

_Would he stop doing that?_

Sora’s window rolled down, splatterings of rain dotting the interior of the car. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat and tried to project the words over the sounds of the storm.

“See you Monday morning Riku!”

The rain speckled against Sora’s cheeks, but he stayed put, looking expectantly to the silver-haired man.

Riku lingered in the doorway, hands stilled around his keys. The rain continued to dot against Leon's car, and the man, with a grumble, complained. Sora stayed, knowing, hoping, that Riku would respond.

_Please respond._

Riku, slowly, turned, and when he looked to Sora his eyes were unreadable, jaw clenched.

Sora smiled, beamed despite the gusts of wind, and the jade eyes softened.

Riku nodded, and Sora, finally, rolled up the window. He watched as the car disappeared down the street, and looked on as they drove away, the rain plastering his hair to his face, thinking, with a smile: _Thank you, Sora. Thank you for Monday._

He'd say sorry then.

* * *

As they sat outside of Sora's apartment, Sora resisted the urge to just...blurt out what he was feeling. He’d apologize to Riku on Monday, that was squared away. But Leon, Leon was still a mystery. And after what Riku said...Sora had a lot of feelings about Leon.

As they grew closer, talking freely and laughing louder with each conversation, it’d seemed as though to Leon, he was nothing more than a defunct little brother. He’d even given him a _noogie_ early in the day.

But….was Riku seeing something that he wasn’t? Did he possibly have to consider that...Leon was attracted to him?

“Hey Leon….at the bar on Monday…you said something…,”

Leon leaned against his steering wheel, staring at the rain as it rolled down his windshield.

“Something?”

_The best romances start at the bar anyway_

He’d been drunk after all, maybe it meant…

“It’s nothing.”

Sora smiled, tried his hardest to seem genuine as he opened the door. He stepped into the rain and jogged into his apartment building with one last wave, watching as Leon left, pulling away into the wet night. Sora stood alone, slightly damp, in the hallway, and sighed. If he couldn’t ask Leon, couldn’t clarify, he’d have to ask someone else first.

He’d ask Riku, ask him what exactly he was seeing.

Maybe he’d even ask him the _right_ question.

 _Monday_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember in Dream Drop Distance when we found out Riku’s just a socially awkward guy (David Gallagher voice: “Riku’s a social awkward guy”). 
> 
> I like to think that if he and Sora hadn’t been childhood friends Riku would just be DAZZLED by him, absolutely BAMBOOZLED into silence. Because he’s just, you know, he’s a shy guy.


	4. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sora and Riku both say and do things they normally wouldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might actually keep this story under 10k, who would have thought?  
> Me @ Me right now: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Yd3lQVbkYc

**Riku**

_Naminé_ _was laughing, holding up a glass star charm. It glistened sky-blue in the afternoon light, and she asked the vendor how much it was. Someone shoved past, a jukebox on their head, laughter following with each step, but the mood wasn’t jostled, only amplified. The festival’s energy was infectious, Riku could feel it coaxing a smile and laughter from him, he could see bursts of exhilaration in Naminé’s eyes._

_As she pointed across the street, her hand wrapped around his, she tried her best to shout over the blaring music._

_She was pointing at the stage, something about a fire show, but Riku’s attention had already been captured by something new._

_Joy embodied. A wide smile, sparkling eyes brilliantly electric against chocolate-brown hair. Laughter that rose above the sounds of the festival._

_Laughter that made Riku’s heart flutter._

“Stay hydrated,” Ienzo’s words, though murmured, throbbed in Riku’s head. He groaned into his pillow, felt the coaxing pull of his roommate’s hand as the cool touch of a compress rested across his forehead.

“I’m amazed it took this long for you to get sick. Waking up before dawn to walk, staying at work late…”

“Shut up.”

There came a chuckle. “Shutting up,” then the sound of the bedroom door closing, a whispered: “Sleep well Prince Charming,” still too loud for sick ears.

Riku’s sigh turned to a cough, ragged and painful against a tender throat.

This was not how Monday was supposed to go.

**Sora**

This was not how Monday was supposed to go.

Sora chastised himself for not appreciating the life he’d had only a week prior. The warm trust, in the otherwise cold morning, that he’d always have a place, a spot, next to Riku.

For the first time since they’d begun their routine, Riku wasn’t waiting for him, and both their spots had been greedily devoured.

_Why wasn’t he here?… He’d nodded to the question about Monday, he’d looked back. We're supposed to be talking right now._

Had the two days wiped Riku's acceptance of reconciliation? Had Saturday made him rethink, and Sunday reaffirmed, that Sora was unworthy of discussing anything any further?

 _Riku_ …

Someone shoved Sora further into the glass window and he winced. There came a gruff apology, and he nodded, his back aching all the same.

He’d just…have to talk to him at lunch. Right, lunch. No outing with Demyx and Leon today, no. He had to talk to Riku, even if the man was avoiding him.

He _had_ to.

* * *

“Are you ok Sora?”

“Huh?” Sora paperclipped the documents he’d finished printing, the papers still warm to the touch.

“Are you ok Sora?” There was worry in Demyx’s gaze, something caring and genuine in the way he leaned away from his computer and put his hands to his chin, pooling all his attention into Sora’s up-and-coming response.

“You’re perceptive Demyx,” Sora straightened the papers, turning away from the puppy-dog eyes.

“That’s why I work in HR, might as well get paid for it.”

Sora looked to the empty desk in their trifecta. _Human Resources_. Demyx leaned ever closer, and a worry that’d set within Sora began its course: _Ventus will be back tomorrow. What if he isn’t as relaxed as Demyx?_

_What if he thought it was inappropriate, going out to lunch and meeting up in bars while still in uniform? Would that be a bad first impression…_

"Sssoorrraa," Demyx's sing-song whimpering broke through anxious thoughts, and Sora gave him a weak smile. 

“I’m glad you’re over your flu Dem, I felt really overwhelmed on Friday.”

The attentive gaze turned to something like guilt, and finally, Demyx leaned away, palms no longer cradling his chin.

“I’m sorry dude, is that what you’re upset about?” _What if Ventus didn’t use slang in the workplace? What if he wrote people up for that?_ “I’m really sorry, but that flu, _woof_ , it knocked me out. It’s knocked out half the company too, you should see the accounting department, bare-bones, plus half the media management team…”

“Accounting?” the words were angel-song, a melody piercing through uncertainty. _Riku is in accounting, maybe he’s sick. Sick! He didn’t blow me off. He’s probably, this very minute, blowing his nose into a napkin._

“Yea, though all of those accounting guys should take the day off, they overwork themselves, all of them! They’re crazy…,” Demyx sighed and fiddled with the leaf of his plant, his voice lowering. “Crazy _hot_.”

Sora stilled.

“Crazy antisocial too…something about working with numbers just makes people...I dunno….I’ve asked Ienzo to eat out with us so many times and he always just….”

There was a moment of silence as Sora stared at his pages and Demyx continued to fiddle with the leaf. Neither seemed to realize, or want to acknowledge, the gravity of what had been spoken. And from the _human resources_ department of all places.

The panic finally set in when Sora pushed away from his desk, wanting nothing more than to journey to the break room and come up with a new plan for a discussion with Riku. He was _not_ going to acknowledge what Demyx said, there was no point in it. He should be focusing all his energy on his own blasphemy…He could always email Riku…

Demyx, with fear-widened eyes, looked to him, and his words came rushed and breathy: “You didn’t hear that.”

Sora fiddled with the papers, pushed a piece of hair behind his ear, and tried to look focused. “Hear what? Sorry, I was busy, these pages just won’t get straight…”

And Demyx watched him with uncharacteristic seriousness, his gaze picking apart every feature of Sora’s as though searching for a tell. Workplace romances led to nothing more than paperwork and heartbreak. As HR representatives they knew better than to indulge in them, and yet, two-thirds of their department seemed willing, almost content, with the idea of pursuing, and willingly falling into, something forbidden by their very job code.

_I'll catch myself though._

“Don’t tell Ventus, or do, I-I don’t know, don’t let me stop you,” Demyx turned away quickly, seeming to hide behind his computer monitor, and Sora, quietly, watched as he stressfully typed in an attempt at normalcy. He’d typed, as the moments passed: _fwoyuku56gnjsjfgjgiwca_.

“I mean, you already know about my attempted office romance,” The response came gently, amd Demyx stilled.

“But you said that was at your old company,” the mulleted blond’s gaze, a playful blue, rose above the top of the monitor. “Right?”

Sora laid the pages flat and smiled.

“Don’t tell Ventus.”

* * *

Maybe Demyx _should_ tell Ventus because this was inappropriate, this was wrong.

_This isn’t what you’re supposed to do on your lunch break._

Sora stood outside of Riku’s townhouse, a bag of take-out, and medicine, in hand.

_What should he say? Should he just knock on the door?_

He raised his hand, wincing with each movement.

Maybe he should leave it on the stoop, Riku’s roommate would be home eventually, he would bring it inside…

But what if Riku didn’t eat all day, and he just got sicker, and sicker, days turning to weeks, their Monday conversation never happening until one of them eventually...forgets, then falls in love, has silver-haired children with someone else…

Sora’s fist rose again, shaking and suspended in air as he finally went to knock, eyes closed, cheeks flaring in pink-toned embarrassment.

“…..Sora?”

It was croaked, and gingerly, Sora opened his eyes.

The embarrassment evaporated as Sora looked to how ill the man looked.

“Should you be…outside Riku?”

There was a jacket strewn over Riku as though he hadn't cared to properly put it on, and his hand, shaking, clutched the doorknob, and when he sniffled; his nose slightly pink, the effort seemed to unbalance him.

“Have to…medicine…what are you…,” Weakly, with his head lolling against the door wedge, Riku closed his eyes.

“Medicine!” Riku’s eyes fluttered as Sora shouted, and Sora winced. “I’ve got medicine,” His second attempt was barely a whisper.

“I got you a Hi-Potion, and an Ether, and in case you were really bad, a Phoenix Down.” Sora opened the bag, pointing to each remedy with a trembling finger. “I got some food too, in case you were hungry.”

“But….Why?” Riku’s gaze, though pained and dampened in intensity, still caused a flutter in Sora’s heart.

“Well….because…it’s Monday Riku.”

_He’s going to take the stuff and close the door. He can’t talk right now; he’s barely even standing up. This is ok, you’ll have more time, you work together, you see him every day…._

Riku slumped forward, falling into Sora’s arms. Weakly, he went to pull himself up, his hand gripping the door wedge, and the brunette teetered on the steps. Sora felt the heat wafting from his coworker's body, felt the trembling of his heart, and steadied himself. The idea, another horrible idea, came to mind.

“I’m..sorry,” Riku pulled away, mind foggy and murky with fever. He barely registered the tightening of Sora’s hand on his waist, barely heard the coaxed murmurings as the door closed behind them.

_I’ll take care of him, just until his roommate comes home._

* * *

Riku sat on the couch and nibbled at the food Sora had picked up from _Ignis’ Café_. He’d drunken both the Hi-Potion and the Ether, and he seemed a bit more lucid than he had prior, at least enough to hold himself up.

“Thank you,” The response was whispered as Riku leaned into the couch, head lulling against the headrest.

Sora rose with a smile, feeling more at ease, knowing he’d already overspent his lunch break but not caring. He'd done a good thing, a worthwhile favor, and if he got reprimanded when he went back to work, he had no regrets. 

“I’ll go now,” that was the best idea Sora had had all day. “Feel better, I’ll lock the door for you.”

And yet, when from the couch came a mutter that seemed almost like a plea, Sora, almost happily, stilled.

“…don’t go to the bar anymore…they meet people there.”

Sora paused in the doorway, looking to the kitchen, so neat and clean before him. He should go, he should _really_ go. Even if he called off of work because the entire situation had fried his motivation, he needed to leave. And Riku probably wasn't even aware of what he was saying, was close to delusional...so why did Riku’s voice, like the pied-piper, beckon the brunette back into the living room so easily?

He kneeled by the couch, painfully aware of how close his face was to Riku’s, painfully conscious that he was most likely going to become sick come Thursday. But that didn't matter, not now or ever, because Riku’s gaze, watery and teal, kept him entranced, as though compelling him to patiently wait and listen.

“Leon…Cloud….they met….at the bar….”

“Cloud?”

Riku coughed into his arm, and Sora winced. 

“…husband," and another sniffle. 

Sora, for a moment, was thankful that Riku had a fever, because if not, he would have felt, in waves, the sudden increase of embarrassment fueled warmth from Sora.

_So that’s what Leon had meant by “the best romances start at the bar anyway.” He’d been talking about his own life._

Leon’d just been the type of person who, when drunk, schmoozed about their spouse. It hadn’t been flirting, it’d just been Proud Husband Vibes.

And Sora had thought....

Sora had assumed...

_So embarrassing..._

There was danger in seeing the world through the flowered-hue of romance, and Sora.... _ah, so embarrassing_....it'd taken him far too long to recognize it. But...maybe it wasn't all that bad…he’d seen Riku that way for how long? And it’d led to this, a moment of calm, of gentleness. Nothing romantic, but nice all the same.

“How much of the workplace gossip do you know Riku, you’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you?”

Had led to _teasing_.

Riku's eyes were already closed, breathing ragged as he slept. But fortunately, his expression seemed peaceful. _The Hi-Potion, fast-acting be damned_.

"Tell me about everything the next time we're at work together, ok?" and slowly, uncertainly, Sora crawled forward, leaning towards Riku with blush-warmed cheeks. Gently, he pressed his forehead against the sick man’s, felt the feverish, clammy skin against his own, and didn’t move. His heart, pounding frantically in chest, shook the hand that gently intertwined itself with Riku’s.

He’d stayed by his side, would tell Demyx, when the man asked where he'd been, that he’d gotten the sickness that was making its way around.

It was love-sickness, but sickness all the same.

**Riku**

His eyes were warm with fever, his mouth dry and throat burning, but there was one comfort, a pleasant, if not endearing, gentleness wrapped in palm.

_How long had he been there?_

_Had he grabbed Sora's hand or..._

_Would it be wrong to…_

Slowly, Riku pulled his hand, intertwined in Sora’s, closer. Pulled it centimeter by centimeter, tried to suppress the cough that threatened to rise.

The back of Sora’s hand felt cool against his lips.

A returned kiss, only a week late.

And then slowly, his movements stronger but weak all the same, Riku gently shrugged off the blanket that lay on top of him. With his free hand, he sloppily draped it over Sora, and with a satisfied sigh, closed his eyes, head still throbbing, eyes still painful with heat, but happier than he’d been all weekend.

* * *

“Would you like to stay the night or….”

Sora blinked. Riku, mere inches away, still slept, but above, staring down at them, was a shock of grey hair and dark blue eyes.

After a short, awkward conversation and a bit of untangling, Ienzo and Sora walked to the door, both at a loss for words, both knowing, just by introductions, secrets that weren’t theirs to speak.

“Thanks again for not…calling the police when you first saw me…”

Ienzo’s hand, pressed to the door, slowly closing it, spoke of his yearning to end the interaction. He was trying to be polite, and it wasn’t that he found Sora annoying, but he was used to, enjoyed, conversations that were limited to five sentences or less.

“That would have been a waste of a call.” And they had already surpassed seven lines of dialogue.

“Still, I feel like I owe you,” Sora, the ever oblivious, leaned with the closing door, maintaining eye contact as he spoke. “We should get lunch sometime.”

“Lunch?”

“Yea, lunch.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Ienzo’s responses were getting shorter by the minute, and the door slowly inched closed with each spoken syllable, but Sora prevailed. “A treat? I feel bad, I kind of intruded…”

The door stilled.

_Even if the puppy of a man had forced his way into the apartment, Riku’d had him in a cobra-like grip, Sora had to pry himself away. His presence must have been appreciated in some way._

_Plus, Ienzo had long grown tired of hearing the name “Sora” mumbled under breath while Riku slept._

“Fine….I’ll bring Riku.”

His face was barely peeking through the opening of the partially closed door, but Sora didn’t mind.

He was too busy smiling.

_Lunch with Ienzo and Riku. He’d have to invite Demyx._

And though he’d missed the last train, and Ienzo had closed the door without a goodbye, Sora’s walk home was beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to offer a taste of Sora/Leon, lmao, a wee sample. I cannot write that ship. I tried, didn’t work out, Leon just feels so much OLDER. He’s like a big brother, I feel like he’s going to offer Sora a baseball like: “ok SPORT, let’s play some CATCH.”


	5. In Two Weeks' Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who wasn't able to keep this fic under 10,000. Fs in the chat.

“As your supervisor Sora, I have to say it.”

The fan whirred in the corner, lifting the stack of papers. Ventus steadied them with a stray hand, eyes never leaving his subordinate’s shrinking form. A lock of Sora’s hair caught ahold of an eyelash, and every blink seemed to be a form of low-level torture, but despite the discomfort, he didn’t dare move, didn’t dare so much as flinch, bound by fear of rousing even more tension in the HR office.

Ventus held him rigidly in blue-eyed discipline, and Sora fought to remember how to speak, how to think. It was like being caught in the gaze of a snake, the stare the only warning before the fatal, viperous strike. A cold sweat began to trickle its way down his neck.

“I know Ventus, I’m—”

“You can’t just leave work without telling anyone, we have forms, you could have clocked out for an unpaid break, _something_. You’re HR, this is exactly what you’re _not_ supposed to do. Your job is to deal with the employees that do exactly what _you’re_ doing right now.”

_If only you knew the half of it._

“I’m sorry, I _really_ am, this…I had an emergency come up,” Sora, tentatively, untangled the stray spike of hair from his eyelash. “I panicked a bit, I...”

They looked to one another again, Sora’s breathing stilled, Ventus’ expression unwavering, Demyx, to their sides, trying his hardest to look busy, eyes glued to the glow of his screen.

“Is everything ok?” and the gaze, finally, softened, and the long-withheld breathes escaped from Sora’s lungs.

“Mhm,” there’d been a glimpse of silver-hair in accounting, a waiting, timid smile on the morning train. “Everything is fine now.”

And like a cool breeze over the beaches of Sora’s hometown, the boyishness returned to Ventus in the form of a small, worried smile.

“Good. For a positive Sora, even though you're on probation, you handled yourself pretty well last week despite your lunch mishap, at least from what I can see from these documents you filled out. You've done a good job.”

“That’s thanks to me. If I hadn’t gotten sick Sora wouldn’t have been able to prove himself,” Demyx smiled over his computer screen, and Sora felt the last of his nerves unfurl. He went to speak, but Ventus got there quicker, the worried smile melting in a teased grin. 

“Good job Demyx," Whether it was sarcastic or genuine, Sora couldn't decipher, but he chuckled all the same as Demyx seemed to consider the possibility too. Ventus stroked the leaf of one of Demyx’s plants and, in the ensuing silence, cast an embarrassed glance to his workmates. "Did I live up to what you imagined of me as your superior, Sora? Was I scary?”

Demyx stretched and fiddled with a piece of paper. "I think you let him off easy, to be honest."

Sora groaned, and Demyx, laughing, balled-up the page he'd been toying with and threw it with a wink. It was an easy catch, and with as much power as he could muster, Sora hurtled it back. The surprised yelp was all the vindication he needed, _thanks varsity blitzball_ , and Sora smiled as Ventus, with an exaggerated blink, pretended not to witness the tomfoolery.

_How were they going to get any work done?_

“If anyone needs to be seriously talked to it's you Demyx,” there was a mischievous glint in Ventus' eyes, a playful, growing smile as he pulled away from the plant. “You’ve been slacking off.”

“When isn’t he slacking off? Leon told me Demyx has the worst performance reviews, said nobody knows how he hasn’t been fired yet.”

Demyx leaned back towards his desk, laying against the wood with a moan. “I’m trying to _work_ you guys. I have to screen the list of recruits, find someone to train that new guy Hayner, send a form to Marketing…”

“That sounds exactly like that email you sent me this morning. The one with the list of recruits and the subject line: Please have this completed before lunch.”

Demyx mumbled something under his breath about Sora's lacking loyalty, and Ventus chuckled. He then spoke, gave one last word of encouragement, and as though by magic, or by the charisma that all good supervisor's possess, something changed. An air of concertation came over the HR Department, the sound of typing replacing laughter, and productivity, finally, seemed to be at the core of the workday.

* * *

Sora’s second Wednesday at Wise Corp was the most efficient. Ventus was, by and far, a better teacher than Demyx, and despite seeming younger than both Demyx and Sora, he held an air of maturity that coaxed the workers into a sort of kindness induced efficiency. Come lunch, the trio ate together in the nearby park, and the anxiety concerning Ventus and his possible, oppression supervision, flitted away on the cool breeze of midday.

Still, as the workday does, by five Sora was ready to go home and was more than ready to see, waiting outside the building, bathed in the orange light of the late afternoon, the one he’d wanted to talk to all day.

They exchanged a glance, conversations they’d had lingering between them, confessions neither knew the other'd mumbled, warm in their throats.

Ventus, with a short, wary glimpse, ushered Demyx away, and Demyx, just as feverishly, began to talk about how much they’d missed Ventus at the bar, his voice echoing over the sounds of the calm and quieting Twilight Town.

The silence lingered for seconds into minutes, the HR worker and the accountant struggling over what to say, how to say it.

The ice broke with a sigh, and then, a smooth motioning of a hand. Riku, with a calm, cool glance, pointed his thumb in the direction of the train station, and Sora, with a sudden rush of shyness, nodded vigorously.

It’d taken almost two weeks, but they were finally back on track.

No worse for wear, and just a touch more confident.

* * *

Sora didn’t know which one he preferred, the morning commute with the bright, cool touch of early sun, or the lazy afternoon before impending dusk. The inside of the train was painted a comfortable orange hue, and Riku’s hair illuminated an almost halo-like appearance.

The ride home was emptier than Sora had anticipated, there was no jostling for a place to stand, no other voices to compete with...

“You decided not to go out with Demyx and them?” and Riku, as always, spoke evenly and quietly.

“You decided not to work overtime?” _Were they still on a teasing level_?

Riku looked to him, a moment of calculation as his eyes narrowed. Sora held the gaze, his smile soft and patient, growing when Riku finally, with a softening gaze, smiled back. Sora turned away, looked to the passing scenery with a sigh.

“Going out every day gets tiring, I’m meeting up with them on Tuesdays and Fridays now.”

Riku seemed to consider the words, and Sora watched, out of the corner of his eye, as Riku nodded slowly.

“Tuesdays and Fridays…What are you going to do on the other days?”

_Enjoy the ride home with you._

“I dunno, I’ll figure it out. I have other friends you know, gotta make sure they’re not missing me too much.”

“Mm,” Riku looked to the passing clocktower, and Sora, with one last blink, closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth on his face. Everything was, perfectly, back to normal.

_Sunset Terrace Stop._

Sora opened his eyes, rose from the railing smoothly. Riku blinked, his hand still gripping the handle.

“Where…”

“This is your stop, right?”

It had to be the first time Riku’d been the one to blush, the first time he’d averted a glance with a low, embarrassed: “R-right.”

It was the first time Sora’d walked Riku home, a week-long repayment for that….slightly distressing first drunken night commute. The walk was silent, peaceful, like they were old friends, or _lovers_ , enjoying an evening stroll.

It was a nice thought.

“You live so close to where they have the Wayfinder Festival.”

The street brought memories, _sparkling glass star charms, “Simple and Clean” blaring through someone’s jukebox, Kairi’s overwhelming excitement about the fire show. She was almost vibrating with anticipation as she pulled him forward, and Sora couldn’t help but laugh. “Slow down Kairi, are you worried they’re going to run out of fire?”_

“My first day in this town I went to the festival with my friend and then we stayed up decorating my apartment. My sleeping schedule really didn’t stand a chance…the next day was when I first started running late for the train.”

Riku was silent but listening, his glaze flittering to Sora as the brunette paused. The pause had been a gift, an intentional emptiness waiting to be filled, and Riku's response, it'd been expected, wanted. The man wanted to speak, that much was obvious. It was evident in the tightness of his jaw and the opening and closing of his fists. Sora knew these cues, was patient to them...Riku had to be considering his words carefully, so much so that he didn't notice when Sora slowed their pace.

_I'll buy you as much time as you need._

“It’s funny Riku, I don’t remember you on the train that first day…but the second day you were there, and that was the first time you offered me a spot,” the thought coaxed a smile. “Thanks again for that.”

“You’re welcome,” the words left Riku before he’d anticipated, a knee-jerk bout of politeness. He winced, and Sora pretended as though he hadn’t heard, looking to the sky with the same, relaxed saunter, waiting for the— “Actually, Sora…”

 _Ah, there it was._ Finally, what he’d been waiting for.

“After work sometime,” the words came hesitantly. “Dinner?”

A flash of surprise, a slowly growing smile. 

“Let’s go somewhere neither of us has gone,” The words came at an odd pace, each syllable forcing itself through. “New…worlds to experience.” _Was this for real? Or not?_

The breeze brought the chill of autumn, a welcoming coolness against the warmth of embarrassment. Riku looked down at Sora, saw the results of his words in real-time, the familiar bashful smile, the expected twinkling eyes.

_Finally, he’d done it._

“There’s that Chocobo Chicken place that just opened.” 

_A date._ Would it be like in the mornings, where Riku was pleasant, but distant? Or like at work, short and curt with only a lone-lingering glance?

Riku smiled, relief warm in the curl of his lips.

“That sounds good.” Somehow, someway, despite his obvious shyness, Riku still seemed so…. _cool_.

“How about tomorrow after work?” the words rushed from Sora, and he felt another wave of heat pass over him.

Was he being too eager?

Was Riku’s heart pounding just as much as his was?

Riku reached into his pocket, and Sora’s heart stilled.

_A rose? Was he going to give him a rose?_

_Keys_ , Riku pulled keys from his pocket. 

“Thanks for….walking me home...how about we decide on a date at lunch tomorrow?”

“Oh yea, no problem,” _Right that's what he'd been doing._ Sora, with a polite nod, took his leave. He walked down the steps, barely remembering walking up them. He waved from the sidewalk. “See you at work Riku, have a good night.”

Riku nodded, watched Sora begin his own walk home. He resisted the urge to follow him.

“Sor—”

“Rik—”

They both paused, hearts racing. Sora turned back, and Riku remained at the door, gripping the knob for dear life.

“Riku, about tomorrow,” but Sora had to speak first, he had to let Riku know. “You don’t have to catch the early train; I’ll save you a spot.”

And whatever Riku had been about to say vanished in a haze of blushing pink. Sora smiled and wished he were a painter, a photographer, maybe even a poet, because the way Riku looked, the way he’d reacted, was something he wanted to commit to memory for the rest of his life.

With another wave goodbye and a shut of the door, the two coworkers sighed to themselves, both anticipating the next day just as much as they’d come to yearn for the morning commute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around and reading, I hope you enjoyed the fic!


	6. Epilogue: Familiar Train, Strange Commute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back, back again.

**Sora & Riku**

He was early, constantly early, so much so that the sound of his hurried footsteps against the bathroom floor had become an expected sound for the roommate who still lay, awake but drowsy, in the next room over.

But that…. that was reserved for workdays. Not weekends, never weekends.

There were still three hours until they were to meet Demyx and Sora for breakfast; plenty of time to get ready….so why was Riku up now? Why was Riku, at the crack of dawn, barreling through the bathroom, hairdryer blowing, drawers slamming?

Ienzo pulled the blankets over his head as Riku burst from the bathroom, his footsteps thundering through the house and he made his way back to his bedroom.

 _Can’t even sleep in on a Saturday._ Ienzo burrowed deeper into his nest of blankets, squinting as he turned on his phone.

_A message from Even about bringing Demyx to dinner on Wednesday._

_A text from Demyx about some song lyrics he’d come up with at 3 AM._

He rubbed his eyes, smiling as he read, and then reread, digesting each lyric and rhyme as though they were gospel. He imagined what kind of music Demyx would compose, the beginnings of a song budding in mind. He was so engrossed in the idea that he barely heard the front door close as Riku finally hurried out into the blue-dawned morning.

From under the blanket, Ienzo smiled as he typed a quick text.

Even if, at the root of it, Sora was at fault for Ienzo's Saturday mornings being disrupted, he still had a lot to thank him for.

A double date with someone he’d never thought would give him a chance.

Conversations that he actually enjoyed and looked forward to.

The phone chimed, message delivered, and Ienzo closed his eyes and held the phone close to his heart. And then, with a sigh, he fell asleep again.

He still had three hours after all.

* * *

The traffic of the morning commute was null as Riku made his way through the streets. In the chilled air, there was only laziness, a gentle, morning-soft breeze as the city slept. 

It seemed, save for Riku, that the entirety of the city still slept on, but unlike him, they didn't have a Sora to deal with. The three hours Riku had allotted for himself still, as he jogged the streets, breath fogging behind him, didn’t feel like enough time to coax the jostled brunette from the warm confines of a Saturday-morning bed. Riku’d learned the hard way after their first date all those months ago, that Sora had a knack for being late to anything and everything. It wasn’t limited just to the morning commute; it bled, dependably, into any event.

It was equally as cute as it was annoying.

He was reminded of this, once more, when he finally made it to Sora’s apartment and attempted the waking ritual.

He should added another hour to his plan.

“Come on,” He crossed Sora’s bedroom to grasp at the blue curtain. “Get up Sora.”

If the sun couldn’t do the job, at this rate they’d be eating off the lunch menu.

It was his last plan of action.

“Last warning.”

“Spare me five more minutes…”

_No mercy._

With a yank, Riku pulled the curtains to the side, and sunlight streamed into the apartment. There came a faint groan as Sora ducked deeper into his blankets.

“Ten minutes...more minutes…”

_Failure._

With a groan, Riku went to the bed and looked to the ball before him. Somewhere in that cocoon was Sora, and in this state, they'd possibly even have to forget about lunch.

He went to speak...but sighed, instead opting to lean towards the ball, hair curtaining his face. Riku spoke only once he'd mustered all the frustration and breakfast-yearning impatience he could into a barely whispered statement, and his words came cold and to the point.

“I’ll go home then Sora. Just come meet us at the restaurant once you get ready,” Slowly, he pulled away then, not daring to breathe. "Goodbye."

And finally, Sora, began to come alive.

“Wait,” the bundle of blankets began to move, and Riku leaned back. “I’m getting up!”

Riku rose from the bed as an opening appeared from the blanket mound, and he smiled.

 _A well-battled victory_.

“Come on then,” and he extended his hand, palm up, to the dark hole in the blanket nest. “Let’s go together.”

By just as he had plans, so did the other. Riku’s extended hand was ignored, invitation rejected, and just as quickly as he’d realized it, the hands wrapped themselves around his middle. A gentle tug brought him onto the bed, and darkness, warm, blanketed confines, surrounded him. There came a chuckle, a bated gasp, and then silence as they stayed there, in a nest for two, for longer than Riku had planned.

He really should have woken up earlier.

* * *

**Ventus**

Ventus was wary of the accountant and the fresh HR hire.

There were gazes that lingered too long, a look that trailed after the other as they turned away. 

He was already dreading the paperwork that would come from an office romance.

Some days they would bring one another lunch, other days they’d chat offhandedly by the coffee machine, talking about a tv show or some shared interest. The cheerful brunette’s ability to somehow convince Riku; stoic, workaholic Riku, to hang out with the motley crew from Research and Development was beyond the understanding of most of the office.

The consensus, after much discussion, was that they must have been old friends…but Ventus was…skeptical.

It was the easiest assumption for the untrained eye, and he would have liked to believe it too, if not for the _feeling_ he got when he looked to them. _Something_ was going on…what that something was…he didn’t know, didn’t know if he wanted to know, but he couldn't throw the familiar tuggings of intuition.

He watched them leave work, heading towards the train station together, waving goodbye to Leon as the day drew to a close. Overhead there came the distant groan of thunder, and Ventus looked to the grey, frowned, and pulled his jacket closer.

“You got a ride?”

Ventus didn’t even need to look from the clouds to know who was asking.

“Roxas should be here soon,” Ventus smiled, and waved his hand in polite dismissal. _Who else but Leon_?

“Want to come over instead? Cloud should be home, he’s been meaning to talk to you. Rox can just pick you up there.”

Ventus grimaced. _Cloud_. He didn’t have time to listen to his cousin’s lectures: _How energy-efficient is your office, have you guys thought about installing solar panels on the roof, it’ll really benefit the planet and it’ll mean less money towards Shinra. I hateShrinadoyouknowwhaththey’redoingtotheplanet?ClimatechangeisimportantVentusstopignoringmei’mbeingserious—_

Ventus closed his eyes and shook his head, the memory dissipating with each shake. Leon, one last time, tried again to invite him into the warm confines of his car, and Ventus gave one last look into those steely eyes, paired, expertly, with a gentle: “No thank you,” before the man, finally, left him alone.

He watched Leon pull away, the taillights of his car seeming brighter, redder, in the darkening light. The first drop of rain speckled against the cement as Leon, the last of his coworkers, disappeared from view, and the next splashed, cold and sure, against Ventus’ thumb. He stepped back into the dark of the overhang, and watched, hand gripping his gummiphone, as the downpour began.

Already the sounds of car horns began to roll through the city, a familiar, almost comfortable, melody of frustration. He knew how they felt, as he stepped back, closer to the dark doors of the building, as the rain began to pick up. 

He looked to his phone as stray droplets speckled against the time.

_5:15._

Maybe he should have taken Leon up on his offer, Roxas was already late…

He waited a bit longer, checking his phone as the minutes rolled by, each missed call to Roxas marking further movement into the future. 5:15 became 5:30, and 5:30 gently chugged, in the cold of the storm, to 5:55. Ventus looked to the rain, darker and heavier with each passing minute, and then to his missed call log and draining battery.

_He was going to kill Roxas._

And finally, as though beckoned by the threat of violence, the phone shuddered, and Roxas’ icon popped up on the screen. Ventus answered with gritted teeth, but before he could speak, before the frustration poured out from him, growled and shiver-toned, Roxas’ spoke.

“I’m so sorry Ven. Are you already home? Did you get a ride?”

“I’ve been waiting,” where he thought there’d be anger only came tiredness, and even to himself, Ventus’ voice sounded quiet. “Where are you?”

“Leon’s car, we’re heading to Cid’s Autobody Shop...he says you should have taken him up on his offer,” again the rain blew, and Ventus retreated farther away, felt the handles of the door, cold and hard, against his back. “The car’s gonna be here for…a while.”

“….why?”

From the line Ventus could hear Leon mutter something, and Roxas sighed. “I let Hayner drive the car and he…got into an accident…” there came another Leon-murmur. “Leon says you can probably make the next train if you leave now, I’m really sorry Ven, just…call me when you get home ok?”

They hung up with lackluster goodbyes as Ventus looked to the curtain of rain. His ears burned and thunder rolled through the sky, the baritone groans audible representations of his emotions.

He closed his eyes and prepared himself for his journey.

He’d be calling in sick tomorrow, that was now, undoubtedly, certain.

* * *

The train was crowded, the air thick and damp, the lights seeming too bright as they sped through a dark, never-ending tunnel. The rush-hour commute was, undeniably, horrible, but as Ven sat, water dripping from his hair, he felt, just for the moment, a spark of intrigue. Something beckoned his gaze forward through the tiredness and the discomfort, and it wasn't the drowsy eyed businesspeople nor the kid who was playing a too-loud game on their gummiphone…but a reflection in the darkened train window.

Ventus could see, just barely, the darkened silhouettes of a too-affectionate couple.

Maybe it was the mystery of it, their features darkened, identities unknown. Hecouldn’t see who they were even if he wanted to, they were hidden from view by the other passengers, bodies shielding their identities…but still, he could see their reflections, and that was good enough.

It was like watching a shadow-puppet show, their movements almost exaggerated in the sweetness of it all. The shorter one was tugging the taller one’s hood up, and they were laughing about something. Then there came one kiss upon a forehead, and then another, all aided by quiet, barely heard, conversation.

Such small moments of unconscious affection. The sounds of their happiness, sweet, tender murmurs over the rattle of clacking train wheels.... _When was the last time he’d been in love_? The lights flickered, and in the darkness, Ventus closed his eyes. _When was the last time he’d kissed someone?_ The sound of the kid’s video game faded into the rhythmic bounding of the train, and in time, the couple’s laughter did too. Ventus sunk into the monotony of the commute, and his hair continued to drip dime-sized droplets onto his seat.

_Been kissed?_

A stop was called, and the air seemed to lighten as passengers made their way off the train. Ventus took a deep breath, and leaned back into his seat, grimacing, only slightly, at the squish of his wet clothes. It was quieter now, and as the train pulled forward, the rhythmic clattering returning, Ventus’ felt his eyes grow heavier.

_His stop was a long ways away…a quick nap couldn’t hurt…_

“We could ask for time off around the same time…. vacation in Destiny Islands….”

_Hold up._

He knew that voice. And, with eyes snapping open, he knew who “we” was. 

Across the car, no longer shielded by the thick of the crowd, was Sora. He leaned against the wall of the train, steadied only by Riku’s hand on his waist, as he continued to ramble about vacation plans. The train shook, the lights flickering overhead, but he seemed barely phased, his trust wholly dependent on Riku’s ability to keep him upright.

_Ventus knew his hunch had been right._

“You can meet my mom, she’s always telling me I need to come home for dinner, she’ll love the company,” Sora looked to Riku, and the man leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together as he whispered something low and sweet. Sora laughed and answered in an equally quiet, tender whisper, and as the lights flickered again, he stood on his tiptoes, leaning upwards, eyes closing as he went in for a kiss.

The train jostled as they exited the tunnel, and the grey of a cloud-filled afternoon made the newfound light almost silvery. Still, they continued to kiss, blissfully unaware of the change in scenery. Completely oblivious to the man who stared, wide-eyed, in their direction.

Ventus rose to his feet, holding the bar as the train shivered. The long, drawn-out kiss continued, Riku’s grip tightening against Sora’s waist, steadying the brunette. Ventus moved towards them, deliberation in his movements, the squeak from his wet shoes drowned out by the whine of the train. He felt a rush of excitement as he drew nearer, thought of all the things he could say, a smart aleck, self-directed “ _I told you so_!” echoing in mind.

He stopped just as Sora’s hand went to Riku’s cheek, and he cleared his throat only once.

“Hello, Sora,” it felt good to be right. In that moment, it was really the only thing that felt good. The pair pulled apart, the moment of confusion fading way to something barely short of horror.

“Ventus…you’re all wet….,” Riku’s hand fell away from Sora’s waist, and Sora’s eyes widened, realization sharp in his eyes.

“Listen, about what you just saw…”

“You look worried,” Ventus, slowly, drew a hand through his wet hair, a faint attempt to look somewhat presentable. “Is it because you and Demyx didn’t finish the analytical report and you were hoping I wasn’t going to find out?”

“What, no—”

“And Riku,” He turned to the accountant. “You look a bit red. If you feel sick feel free to call in tomorrow, we don’t want the flu spreading around the office again.”

“I’m fine sir.”

 _Sir. So formal._ Ventus’ gaze flickered back to Sora, and again, he cleared his throat. The man was looking to the floor, eyes wide as he processed what was happening. His fists balled, and for a moment Ventus felt a stab of pity.

But then, Riku’s voice came quietly, barely audible over the whining of the train, and Ventus looked to him instead.

“Our intention was never to disrespect the company. We’ve never engaged in anything as a couple while at work, but I understand if you feel as though we need to be disciplined.”

Slowly, Sora’s fist unfurled. He looked up from the floor, looked to Riku who only stared back at Ventus, and his hand, in tentative, slow movements, went for Riku’s. He, uncertainly, reached for Riku's, and without pause, his hand was taken, their fingers interlocking, grasping tightly, as they stood side-by-side, bracing themselves together.

Riku. A star employee. One of the company’s best. A hardworking, dependable, accountant. And Sora. The new hire. Barely five months in, but friendly to everyone, a bit too chatty at times but good at his job.

Ventus looked to them, nodding slowly, knowing what he had to do. 

And, with a deep breath, he did it.

He laughed, pressed his head against the cool glass window, closed his eyes, and laughed. He knew, by now, the worry was growing, fear setting in, but he didn’t care.

All he cared about, in that moment, was letting the laughter roll through him.

_He knew he'd been right._

Overheard, the robotic voice of the train called: _Sunset Terrace Stop,_ and Ventus opened his eyes just in time to see Sora stiffen. Ventus chuckled on, and the pair stared back at him.

“Isn’t this your stop?” He motioned to the door, and at his words, beginnings of something like defiance began to bubble in the depths of Sora’s gaze, and when he spoke, there was a tone Ventus had never heard from him.

“I’m not going to offer any excuses Ventus, so whatever you need to do, I understand,” Sora paused then, and then continued with a bit more strength in his tone. “But we have been completely professional with our relationship and it hasn’t impacted our work. I've read over the employee handbook and interoffice relationships are only forbidden in the cases of managerial positions...Riku and I are only in different departments, there's no chain of command power dynamics.”

Ventus smile grew. Say what you want about his employees, but they knew the HR handbook from and back, he felt a token of pride about it really.

Maybe now was time to give up the act. He'd had his laugh, and their worry was losing its edge. 

“What excuses could you even offer me Sora? You didn’t finish the report, it’s ok, just have it done by tomorrow.”

And just like that, as quickly as it'd risen, the panic died from Riku’s eyes. He was the first to move, he didn’t offer Ventus a smile, only a quick nod before he turned away, stepping towards the door. Sora’s arm suspended between them as he lingered, the defiance melting into confusion. He stayed focused on Ventus as he exited the train, and when they stepped onto the platform, hand-in-hand, he turned back.

“But...I’m…is it alright with you? Me and Riku?” He looked to Ventus, and Ventus, standing in the threshold of the train, alone and still dripping, smiled back.

“I trust you Sora,” the doors began to close, and he gave a small wave. “When you go to Destiny Island, bring me back a souvenir.” 

The doors hissed shut, and Ventus watched as Sora’s expression softened. The train began to pull away, and Sora shoved Riku playfully, before, with another laugh, he waved back to Ventus. And then they went, shielded by a single umbrella. Ventus stepped back from the door, and the small puddle he’d created, as he made his way back to his seat.

He was never good at playing the bad guy for long.

* * *

There was an old rumor about this train, that it was a ghost train and led to nowhere or something. It was a dumb superstition, but as night fell and the windows grew dark and the crowd continued to thin, Ventus felt a sense of…forbidding in the air.

It wasn’t long before he was entirely alone in his train car, and as the ride persisted, less and less people boarded to keep him company.

Being alone had its perks though. He could stand anywhere, lay across several seats for an ideal napping place, or, as he’d chosen, could sit directly underneath the air vent for some nice, warm air.

But still…he _was_ alone.

A stop was called, and the doors opened for no one, an empty station platform staring back at him.

He shivered and looked to his darkened phone _. He couldn’t even call Terra or Aqua to pass the time._

The sound of the wind whistling against the windows seemed like screams and the groan from the brakes…ghostly. Ventus closed his eyes.

_Don’t think about it just sleep, soon you’ll be home, and you can get out of these clothes, take a nice shower, crawl into a warm bed…_

And despite the screaming of the wind and the ghostly wails, as Ventus rested his head against his shoulder and finally, with his newfound solitude, slept.

* * *

The call of a stop roused him from his sleep, _Daybreak Town,_ two more stops to go until he was home. The opening of the doors, bringing with it a gust of wind, brought Ventus, shivering, back to his senses.

Slowly, he rose, rubbing his neck with tired, sluggish movements. And...paused.

His cheek should have been damp from resting against his soaked jacket...but it was dry. And then there was the sound of muffled music, blaring drums and guitars coming from headphones…close enough that he could almost make out the lyrics....

_Something was wrong._

_He wasn't alone anymore._

Ventus, slowly, turned to look at the stranger that sat beside him. The stranger who, just moments before, had been a pillow for Ventus’ cheek, and who, at his movements, paused the music they were listening to.

There were features riddled with attitude, defiance laced in every movement, every bit of spiky black hair a warning not to engage. And eyes, golden and enticing, almost begging for a fight.

_How long had this guy been there?_

“Hello.”

Only a glance was spared before the man’s gaze returned to the gummiphone, and the music started up again, albeit it a bit quieter. “Hey.”

_How long had he been on his shoulder?_

“Sorry about falling on you like that,” Ventus could have sworn that the man was turning the music up, little by little, the more he talked.

“Whatever,” The man’s voice was gravely, a thread of constant annoyance in the words. He, again, looked to Ventus, and the gaze was patronizing. “Even though you look like a drowned rat I wasn't going to let you hog the heater, that's the only reason I sat here.” He looked back to the gummiphone.

Ventus’ cheeks burned.A spare glance to his reflection showed disheveled hair and a red-chilled nose and matching ears.

Still...that didn't mean this guy had to point it out.

“I got caught in the rain,” And who was this guy to judge him anyway? His pants were so ripped it couldn’t have just been for fashion. “Just a bit of bad luck today.”

The man smirked but didn’t look up from his phone. The music blared on.

“Poor blondie,” his furious texting continued. “That must have been _so_ hard for you.”

A glare of Ventus' own began to set in as he watched the anger flow from the man's fingertips. This guy was abrasive. Was rude. Ventus could tell, just from the bile in the stranger's tone, that it would take only one offense for this man to launch forward, fists curled, ready to fight.

“Are you alright?” So why couldn’t Ventus help himself? Why did he, at the sight of danger, so willingly lean towards it?

And the man, as though waiting for the question, exploded.

“No, I’m not fucking alright,” the man’s voice rose as though competing with the music, but still, he typed on, his eyes glued to his phone screen. “ I’m going to be late for work and my boss is an asshole and will probably try and write me up, like I intentionally got my car totaled.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, I am too! The mechanic said they wouldn’t be able to get the parts they need for two months. Fucking _two_ months!” the man gave a loud growl, and with a sharp movement, threw his phone into his lap. He leaned his head back. “That blond jerk is going to pay. What the fuck kind of name is Hayner anyway...”

"I'm..." _wait Hayner?_

"Don't say sorry again blondie," and when he looked back to Ventus this time, laced through his expression and the amber of his eyes was a real threat of violence, the patronizing glance from before long consumed by rage. "Just shut up, will you? Go back to sleep."

The expression was like a viper's strike, and for a moment, Ventus felt paralyzed. In mind, he was stuck processing what he'd heard..... _the car accident had been with this guy…_ but his body was stuck, eyes staring, arm rigidly frozen. A part of him wanted to growl back, ball his own fists and tell this guy that just because he was angry that didn't mean he had to right to take it out on anyone and everyone.

But then...Ventus was too tired for all of that. He turned away as the man began to mutter, under breath, small statements of anger. Ventus put his head in his hands and with a sigh, wanted nothing more than the warmth of his bed. _What were the odds..._ The sounds of the commute, the whistling wind and the rock music, faded into the background, and only the man's mutterings penetrated Ventus' exhausted haze. It was somewhere between _I’m going to kill him_ and _Nothing ever goes the way it’s supposed to_ that the next stop was called, the gust of wind the only boarding passenger, and once more, Ventus shivered.

_Two more stops, I can do this._

“Blondie.”

Ventus groaned to himself, but rose from his hands, looking to the man with his own dash of skepticism. He raised his eyebrow and kept his distance, no longer naive enough to lean forward with pleasantries.

"You cold?"

He was looking to Ventus cautiously, his glance narrowing as though anticipating the other to lie, and the previous anger, the threat of violence in gaze, had cooled.

When he wasn’t angry…there was something handsome about the man’s face. A softness Ventus hadn’t expected, an almost boyish charm he wouldn’t have thought could come from the ripped jeaned, angry commuter. In the pause, there was a moment of silence. The stranger had finally turned his music off.

“A bit."

The man stared at him before nodding. He scooted away and motioned upwards. Ventus followed the gesture, _the heater?_ He shrugged.

“Yes, that’s the heater.”

“I’m telling you to get directly under it,” He turned away. “Idiot.”

Normally Ventus would have, by this point, stood up and walked to the door. He would have waited, quietly, for his stop to be called, and then he would have left, no words left to be exchanged to the rude man on the train.

But this wasn’t a normal situation. He was cold, and he was tired, and the warmth of the heater, no longer shared between two people but blaring down on him, felt better than anything had all day.

Ventus wouldn’t, on a matter of his own pride, thank the man for offering the spot to him...but he also didn’t conceal his smile as he relaxed into the warmth. He knew an apology when he saw one, and this, _this_ was a combo: one for calling him a drowned rat and the other for telling him to shut up. Baby steps.

They were silent, and Ventus watched as the streetlights of his neighborhood came into view. _Just two more stops_...

“Hey…” Already apologizing? Ventus, slowly, looked over to the man, found him already watching. The man paused as they looked to one another, and when he spoke, there was a hint of suspicion: “….how long have you been taking this train?”

...Small talk? That was unexpected...and why was he trying so hard to talk to him, especially when he'd told Ventus to shut up…Did he feel sorry for being rude to a complete stranger? Just say sorry then—

“This is my first time in a while. My brother usually picks me up from work, but…he wasn’t able to today.” _Why did he answer truthfully?!_

“Wasn’t able to?”

“Something came up,” _What was the point in continuing the conversation!?_ “Family issue.”

And that, that seemed to satisfy the man. He nodded, and his expression softened once more. The conversation was over, drawn to a complete, and comfortable, close...so Ventus didn’t know why he did it, why he, once again, opened the conversational door. But he did, and when he’d finished speaking, he found he didn’t regret it.

“I’ll be taking the train for about two months though,” He felt a warmth surge through his body, and fought against the urge to smile. “Maybe longer, depends on my brother.”

“Two months?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” The accusation was there, laced into tone without any forgiving subtlety, and Ventus, for whatever reason, found that he appreciated it.

“Yes.”

The man smirked, leaning away with that same, satisfied nod. “My name’s Vanitas.”

 _He could work with this_.

Ventus relaxed and extended his hand. “Ventus.”

The man stared for a moment, and then looked to the hand. Slowly, he took it, gave Ventus one, purposeful shake, and then pulled away.

But that pull within Ventus, the urging to not let the conversation die, persisted on.

“Thanks again for not pushing me off your shoulder.”

Vanitas scoffed, the beginnings of red traveling up his throat.

“Don’t expect it, that was a one time deal,” Vanitas went quiet, and his gaze went to the phone in his lap. When he spoke again, his voice was lowered into something like a whisper. "And...I'm sorry...for calling you an idiot."

 _He could work with this_.

Ventus smiled, and just as he'd done with Leon, gave the man a wave of the hand. "Forget about it."

Vanitas' expression was unreadable, almost dangerous, and Ventus felt his cheeks warm.

“That's all it takes to make you smile Venty-Wenty?”

"Shut up," and he knew, just from hearing the way Vanitas said the name, that it was single-handedly the worst nickname anyone had ever given him.

"Make me," And Vanitas smiled too, deciding that’s what he’d call the blond from now on because the expression on Ventus' face was single-handedly the best he’d ever seen.

Ventus chuckled, and the urging finally died. He closed his eyes, sighed, and just as before, he focused on the rhythmic thrumming of the train, the sound of the rain, the warmth of the heater....And when Ventus, just as before, began to lean towards the other, his cheek falling to Vanitas’ shoulder, the black-haired man just barely contained the beginnings of a smile.

For two months maybe they’d be just like this, and for both, that was satisfying enough… but then again, anything could happen during the evening commute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThisepiloguewassolongI'msorry.  
> Alsowhycan'tIeverjustwriteaclose-endedstorypleasesomeonestopme.


End file.
